Deeper Into You
by duos-deathscythe
Summary: Rick Grimes is a wealthy businessman who is having the worst day of his life: his personal assistant quit on him. That is, until the next day when everything that can go wrong does. But walking into a young man and spilling his belongings everywhere has it's merit: besides being quite a looker, the boy is looking for a job!
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Deeper Into You

**By:** duosdeathscythe

**Summary:** Rick Grimes is a wealthy businessman who is having the worst day of his life: his personal assistant quit on him. That is, until the next day when everything that can go wrong does. But walking into a young man and spilling his belongings everywhere has it's merit: besides being quite a looker, the boy is looking for a job!

**Pairing:** Rick x Daryl, mentions of Rick x Lori, background Shane x Lori.

**Warnings**: Male x Male, Language.

**AN**: I was totally, TOTALLY blown away by the response I got from "The Warmth" on Archive of Our Own...I just had to do another fic. Well, I was wanting to do another anyway, but that spurred me into wanting to get one out even faster. And a multi-chapter, to boot!. :D

Title is of the song, "Deeper Into You", by: Johnny Hazzard.

Just like, "The Warmth", this is a plot bunny borrowed from: . I have no idea how tumblr works with who posts what or whatever, so I just linked the whole site. This is prompt number eighty: Strictly Business.

Warnings will be updated with the chapters because I have no idea where this is going to go. 8) Hope you guys enjoy!

**I. And Everything Went From Wrong to Right**

The house just isn't the same to him anymore. Rick remembers when it became his own, inherited from his parents after this father died and mother moved to New York City. It happened the same year that he finally asked his high school sweetheart, Lori, to marry him. They'd made it their own whilst keeping Rick's childhood memories of it the same: the threshold used to keep track of his height up until junior-high and it became 'uncool', old toys became decorative trinkets, and the antique furniture refurbished for an older chic. When Rick and Lori returned from their honeymoon in the Greek Isles they'd planned on a family: which room would be the nursury, the game room, etc.

Nowadays though, it's just a big house that is just too spacious for their small family. Especially since Carl turned eighteen and spends most nights out with friends. The harder Rick works to keep up their lifestyle-the longer he stays at the office-the longer he is away from home, the more appealing it sounds to just permanently change his address to the Grimes Tower in the heart of Atlanta. Hell, the quadruple-digit sofa that sits near perpendicular to his desk folds out into a rather comfortable bed. He should know, he's spent countless nights clonked out and twisted in those Egyptian cotton sheets.

After all, sleeping alone in that peaceful room with the comforting sounds of the Atlanta nightlife raging on seventy-seven stories below is way more appealing than sleeping in that cold room next to his equally cold wife. He can't very well place when he first noticed that Lori was acting different. It's a change that Rick only noticed happen overnight but deep down knows that it's been festering a lot longer. Perhaps even from the very moment Rick returned to work after they came home from their honeymoon. Either way it hurts him more than he lets on-the paparazzi would have a field day with that information-not because of the current repercussions but the knowledge that he's transformed that glowing, gorgeous, smiling woman into this shadow of her former self.

She's lost a lot of weight, which wasn't much to begin with, Rick realizes as he slips one arm under her knees and the other beneath her back to pick her up in a bridal carry from the couch. The empty bottle of wine slips from her slack fingers and clinks loudly against the hardwood floor, the sound causing her to shift but not awaken. He can't help but study her face as he ascends the stairs to her-their-bedroom, taking in jutting cheekbones beneath flushed skin. He almost feels guilty for staring at her, having not been intimate together in God knows how long, feeling more like a close friend than a husband. Nudging the door open with his food he steps into the room that doesn't even feel like his own anymore. He ventures inside and makes a beeline straight for the king-sized bed. He has to shift the small woman in his arms to better lean in to lay her down. It's not that she's heavy, not by a long shot, he's just that exhausted. She settles into the thick blankets and plush pillows with a sigh, rolling onto her side and bringing a delicate hand up to rest by her head. The diamond ring on her finger catches the light from the hallway behind him as she moves sleepily to rub at her eyes.

"Shane?"

The name slips from her lips, distorted from sleep and alcohol. Rick's mouth thins and he feels a sick tightening in his chest. Shane is his best friend and head of security, ordered to be Lori's bodyguard at his own request. She's the one who is always leaving the safety of their mansion to go shopping, meet friends for lunch, having beauty days. Rick rarely leaves the Tower, which is even more secure than their house, but he has his own entourage for protection when he does.

He'd much rather have the best he's got with his family. Even if it means that Shane has been mistaken for Lori's husband by those who don't know any better. Or how Carl called him 'daddy' a couple of times when he was a baby. Rick trusts the man with his life, and his family's, but often enough has to shove aside the pang of jealousy he feels that the other man spends more time with him than he does. He tries to tell himself that the love and admiration he feels for Lori isn't as forced as it feels when he leans down to kiss her.

"No, honey. It's me, Rick."

Dark eyes peek at him, recognition only barely visible. Lori blinks lazily and smiles after a few seconds.

"Rick? You're home?" she asks, reaching out to him as if he is a figment of her imagination.

"Just shortly. Come to check on you. Where's Carl?" he prods, grasping her wrist.

Lori groans before she is able to work through her mind what is being asked and what to say back.

"He's spending the night with Michael, remember?"

No, he doesn't. Truthfully, he doesn't even know who Michael is and it's shameful that his son's personal life is such a mystery to him.

"I'd forgotten." he lies, changing the subject, "What'd you have for dinner?"

"Went to Pasta da Pulcinella. You?"

Rick hasn't had time for dinner.

"Had pizza delivered."

Lori smiles and nods into the pillow and just like that she is asleep again. With a sad smile he leans in to kiss her goodnight on the temple before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. He checks Carl's room out of habit even knowing his son isn't home, giving the entire house a good once over before exiting the front door where his driver awaits. The aging man leaps out of the car to open the rear door for him. Rick stands there frozen in place for a moment, lost in the exhaustion he feels creeping up on him.

"Rough day?" a voice startles him from behind.

He turns, surprised to see Shane seated comfortably on the porch swing. He really hadn't noticed the other man. Rick greets him with heavy lids and a tired smile, allowing his mask to skip in front of his best friend. With Lori and Carl he feels the need to keep it up, pretend like he really is the 'invincible' Rick Grimes that the newspapers and magazines dub him as. It's different with Shane, though; always has been.

"Rough week." Rick corrects with a sigh.

Shane snorts a laugh, "Sorry to hear that, man. Been pretty slow on my end."

"And that's how I prefer it."

The two regard each other warmly, Rick walking closer to him to rest a hand on his shoulder, "Thank you. For everything, for being there for my family above all else."

"Shit, Rick, no need to thank me for that. They're my family too in all but blood."

"You're also ours." Rick says, patting him, "But I had better get going. Got a lot of paperwork to make up for since my assistant quit on me."

"Amy? She quit?" Shane parrots in shock.

They both had high hopes for her after she passed the many interviews, background check, and drug test. She was a young and perky blonde, didn't have a single mean bone in her body, doing any and all that Rick or his colleagues asked of her. She'd first gotten their attention with a personal reference and phone call from her older sister: Andrea Harrison, Rick's own lawyer, which is why the news is such a shocker. Rick isn't upset about it though, only a little flustered from the sudden work overload. Nothing too bad.

"Yeah. No notice, no nothing. Andrea's actually the one I spoke to about it. She was afraid it would put a gap between us." Rick tells him, giving a short wave to his driver to let him know that he hasn't forgotten about him.

"Has it?"

Rick shakes his head, "Nah. She's young. I should have known better."

"You are way to forgiving. What're you going to do? I doubt you can even dress yourself without help." Shane jokes with him, smiling.

Rick laughs, "Nah, she at least made sure I could do that before she left. I don't know, maybe I'll hire a walk-in applicant on the spot. God knows I don't have time to sort through everything."

"That is a terrible idea." Shane shoots him down immediately.

"I know. Just wish it were that easy."

"For your sake, me too. But if you do something that stupid, I'll kill you."

"I'll keep that in mind." Rick sighs, "Well, I better get going. Have a lot of work to do."

As he is leaving, Shane calls out, "Instead of working, why don't you spend the night going through applicants and find yourself a damn assistant for me to check out! The faster you get it done the faster you will have a lighter load."

Rick stops in mid stride, turning on his heel and running fingers through his dark, curly hair, "Would you believe that I haven't even thought of that?"

He doesn't laugh because it isn't funny, he laughs because he is exasperated.

"Yes, I do believe it, that's why I recommended it. Hell man, maybe you should rest up tonight and then go through them." Shane tells him.

Rick nods, "Tell you what, I'll pull a few and then crash at the office."

Shane points a finger to him even though he can't see it, "You better! Don't make me put you on lock down!"

Rick waves over his back, "Goodnight, Shane!"

"Night, Rick!"

Rick climbs into the backseat of his car, giving the driver a curt nod. Pat smiles at him, not at all perturbed by the wait, and closes the door behind him. He takes his seat at the wheel and takes off back towards the Grimes Tower. Their drive is quiet until Rick calls in an order for a pizza delivery to his work building. At least this way he isn't completely lying to his wife.

Thirty minutes. That should give him plenty of time to get back and get settled in, maybe even find himself a possible-new personal assistant. He pays no attention to the Atlanta nightlife whizzing by the windows around him, instead breaking out his PDA and checking on appointments for tomorrow. There are a few openings where he can discuss his findings with Shane so that the other man can quickly get started on his part. Maybe he can even meet Lori for lunch.

He bids Pat a good night before disappearing into the building, greeting the on-duty security guard and explaining to him that he is expecting pizza. Joe greets him warmly and accepts the money to pay for the food as Rick passes him, taking the elevator up to the fiftieth floor. From there it takes a special set of keys to access the other elevator that leads up to seventy five. And then another elevator requiring another type of key that takes him to the top two floors. To Rick, this feels like home.

Some decor from the house has migrated here and it's furnished with pieces that Lori hadn't cared for but he loved. The walls are dark where glass doesn't dominate, his own personal gateway to the gorgeous lake of lights outside with a thick curtain that is currently open for his viewing pleasure. The temperature is perfect. The music that he puts on is perfect. This place is perfect.

Mozart fills the room and Rick closes his eyes, resting the palms of his hands flat on the polished mahogany desk to let the soothing instrumental relax his mind. It's as if the weight is lifted off of his shoulders, even just for the moment. To him, this is what home should be. It's why he prefers this space more. Because it's completely his.

Rick starts when the small intercom in front of him beeps and he hits the button almost too quickly, "Yes?"

"Mr. Grimes, your pizza is here, sir. I'll have Chris bring it up."

"Thank you."

Rick cuts the line and meets the other guard at the sliding doors of the elevator, taking his dinner with a quick thanks and returning to the office. The Meato Supremo is ignored for the first several minutes while he gathers files and various other papers, sifting through them from the comfort of his padded chair. Five hours later the clock strikes four am, the pizza is half gone, and Rick has three hopefuls for the position of his new personal assistant. He's relaxed enough now that he feels like he can rest peacefully, if for a short time. After all, work will come early.

His suit is put on a hanger for dry cleaning...who will drop his dry cleaning off? Rick shakes his head, not wanting to rile himself up again, and adjusts the volume just slightly on his music before pulling the attached bed free from the couch. Dressed in an under-tank and boxer-briefs, he stretches out with a content sigh. He pulls a large, fluffy pillow in close to wrap around, wishing it was a soft, warm body that didn't set his nerves on edge. That final thought is what lulls him to sleep.

§§§§§§§§§§

Blue. He'd dreamt of warmth, comfort, contentment...and blue. Despite only getting a handful of hours of sleep, Rick wakes up feeling oddly refreshed and in a good mood. But then his first morning without a personal assistant in years comes out to kick him in the ass and it's not long until he's got a splitting headache, the dream and good mood forgotten. Everything seems to go wrong for him.

It all started when he spilt coffee on his PDA. He'd been angry enough to render an entire ship of sailors speechless. After that he accidentally hung up on a very important client. Then he'd gotten a phone call from Lori telling him that Carl was in a fender bender that he was responsible for. He also managed to dump his lunch into his lap.

By two o'clock he's nearly ready to quit, if such a thing were possible for him. He weaves through people in the lobby as he carries his dirty suit outside to take it to the cleaners. The lady at the front desk calls his name in greeting and he looks at her to return the sentiment, distracted for a split second. That's all the time it takes for him to collide into a solid body, tripping over tangled legs and sending both of them to the tiled floor with a shower of papers. People gasp and part around them, a few who know him calling out in worry and through the corner of his eye he sees a couple of security guards closing in.

"Are you alright? I'm so sorry. It's okay! I'm okay, it was my fault, I ran into him!" Rick waves the guards off, standing and helping the young man to his feet, "Are you okay?"

The boy looks up at him through dark lashes and Rick's breath catches in his throat. He catches a glimpse of bright blue eyes, a shade that absolutely pops in contrast to golden skin that disappears beneath a gray three-piece. He has to be the most beautiful man that Rick has ever seen in person, if men can be called beautiful, with a well-groomed goatee that just barely conceals a Marilyn Monroe-style beauty mark. Rick shakes his head to bring his thoughts back down to earth and he has to brush off another wave of onlookers as he stands and offers a hand. A lot of wariness that has no business being there crosses the man's face for a split second while regarding him before it disappears and he takes it, pulling himself to his feet.

"It's fine. I weren't really paying attention myself...are you alright?"

Rick can't help but laugh, nodding. But then he remembers the mess around them that he caused and sputters, kneeling down to gather the ones up that slipped from the folder that the young man had been carrying. The other catches on and follows his lead. It's while they're that close on the floor that Rick gets another look at the man and he feels a shiver run down his spine. One set of papers held together by a paperclip catches his eye, a resume with a single name printed visibly and professionally: Daryl Dixon.

AN: Hope you guys enjoyed chapter one! Please leave me goodies. 3


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Deeper Into You

**By:** duosdeathscythe

**Summary:** Rick Grimes is a wealthy businessman who is having the worst day of his life: his personal assistant quit on him. That is, until the next day when everything that can go wrong does. But walking into a young man and spilling his belongings everywhere has it's merit: besides being quite a looker, the boy is looking for a job!

**Pairing:** Rick x Daryl, mentions of Rick x Lori, background Shane x Lori.

**Warnings**: Male x Male, Language.

**AN**: Ugh, this chapter! Not only did it just not want to come out, I am not good with fillers. I get to where I want to do the good stuff and lose interest working on fillers!

It may or may not help that I have been playing World of Warcraft again...yeah, it's one hell of a drug. Also, work. Real life. All that good stuff. Oh and let's not forget the raging walker-barn full of zombie plot bunnies I have chewing up my mind. Too many to know what to do with, let alone concentrate on a single one.

I am not totally 100% satisfied with this one at all, it's shorter than the last one and I (still) don't know what the hell I am doing! It's been a while since I have had a serious interview, hence why this one is not serious nor professional. I wanted it to be casual. I am sure in normal circumstances this would be a big no-no in a work force of this caliber.

Next-to-lastly, the school that Daryl went to in Savannah was chosen on two principles: their mascot is a warrior, which is the same of the high school I went to. Aaand...Jenkins. If you play World of Warcraft or are at all familiar with it, you know what the reference is. Leeeroooy Jeeenkins! (sorry XD)

Anywho, thank you ALL sooo much for he reviews, hits, kudos, and more! They are the fuel that keeps me wanting to write! I love you guys. Maybe soon I will be able to get some more art up too. :x Completely unbeta'd...and I know it's short. And almost pointless besides some Rick and Daryl interaction.

Oh, title is from "Smells Like Teen Spirit" by: Nirvana.

**II. And I Forget Just Why I Taste; Oh Yeah, I Guess it Makes Me Smile**

"Daryl Dixon?" the name glides over his tongue like warm honey as Rick reads it from the paper in his hand.

The boy, Daryl, is picking Rick's soiled suit up off of the floor when he responds, "Yeah, that's me."

Rick can't help but skim over the resume and his eyes catch another name that stands out.

"Scheller College of Business?"

Daryl blinks owlishly, not expecting the sudden interest, "Y-Yes. Just graduated, actually."

"God, I graduated from there...near eighteen years ago, myself. You looking for a job?"

Daryl stumbles over his words, probably floored that he is being all but interviewed in the lobby of the Grimes Tower. More than likely, he is very much unprepared and-Rick admits to himself shamefully-this is extremely unprofessional on his part. Things like this typically happen in bad television and for a moment Rick wonders if he is going to answer at all. He wouldn't be surprised if the other just left. It'd be a shame...this is the first time Rick has ever done anything like this and it may very well be the last.

"Yeah, yes, I am." Daryl finally replies, his deep southern accent coming out for just a moment, "Looking to get my foot in the door in any way that I can. The school set me up with some places that are hiring but I figured it wouldn't hurt to try a few others myself."

Rick smiles, "Tell you what. Come with me to drop this off at the cleaners and join me for some coffee. As it turns out...I'm in the market for some help."

Daryl's face visibly lightens up, all previous concern gone. "That sounds great."

Rick slaps him on the shoulder, oblivious to the boy's flinch, and leads him out through the rotating glass doors. Shane is going to kill him. He's well on his way to breaking every safety rule that his friend devised for him: leaving the building without a bodyguard is probably the biggest no-no. And after the conversation that they had last night, the playful threat to his freedom...Rick is actually considering hiring this stranger on the spot. All things aside, they say that a person makes their fist impression on another only seven seconds after meeting them and after the ten minute walk to Jiffy Cleaners, chattering aimlessly, the impression that Rick has is a good one. He likes him.

They don't waste a lot of time at the cleaners. Daryl waits outside while Rick prepays and makes arrangements for someone-hopefully his new personal assistant-to pick it up in the morning. After bidding the elderly lady, Jane, as he's learned over the years, a wonderful evening he meets back up with Daryl and they begin the trek back towards Starbucks. Their conversation remains simple and pleasant, continuing from where they left off before splitting up at the cleaners. By the time they arrive at the coffee shop Daryl is no longer stiff in the shoulders, much to Rick's pleasure. He allows the younger man to order first, who then excuses himself to the restroom.

Rick greets the girl at the register warmly, taking one last second to decide on a drink before settling on something befitting the cool December weather: white hot chocolate. He adds a couple of pumpkin scones to his order before paying and having a seat. By the time Daryl returns he has one of the delightful pastries waiting on him along with his salted caramel hot chocolate. It takes some prompting on Rick's behalf before he actually accepts it, let alone takes a bite.

"Here you are, Mr. Grimes."

Before Rick can even mutter a 'thank you', Daryl erupts into a fit of coughing and choking. He worries about him for just a moment, on the verge of patting at his back to help dislodge the food from his airway, before the other takes a rough swallow and brings the drink to his lips to wash the hindrance down. It's then that he cries out, panting, mouth open wide from being scorched by the hot liquid. Rick knows he shouldn't laugh but he really can't help it. Daryl, red-faced, stares at him with wide, watery eyes.

"Grimes? Rick Grimes? The Rick Grimes?"

His voice is broken and slightly higher pitched than before.

"Yeah, that's me." Rick chuckles, mimicking Daryl's own words from earlier.

The younger man shifts in his chair again, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder at the eyes on them from the other patrons, "Mr. Grimes-"

"Rick, please."

"...Rick...earlier, I didn't mean, I mean I'm sorry for bumping into you-"

"I thought I made it clear that it was my fault. It's alright, at any rate. Right now we're here drinking hot chocolate and eating scones because of it. You came into my building seeking employment and as it just so happens, my personal assistant quit on me yesterday. Needless to say, my day was damn near down the drain until you came in. Now, I know you didn't go to Scheller just to be someone's personal assistant but I can tell you right now...it'd be a good way to get your foot in the door, see how the game is played, and meet some prominent figureheads in this industry. All, of course, pending an interview with me. What do you say?"

Rick finishes by taking a sip of his delicious white hot chocolate.

Daryl is floored but he finds himself answering quickly, "Yea-Yes. Let's do this."

The corner of Rick's lips twitch upward at the slip of that accent again, taking a moment to wipe his fingers off on a napkin before extending his hand, "May I see your resume again?"

His words are like the crack of a whip that sends Daryl into motion. He opens up the folder in his lap and thumbs through some pages that are still in disarray from their spill earlier. Finally he pulls a few out, rearranges them, and passes them over. Rick accepts them with thanks and begins reading their contents in earnest. Daryl Dixon, graduated from Scheller College of Business in 2014, graduated from Jenkins High School in 2006-

"You're from Savannah?"

"Yes, sir."

"Rick, please. You don't have to be so formal around me. Everyone close to me just calls me Rick."

"Yes, Rick, I'm from Savannah, born and raised." Daryl goes on with a lip between his teeth, "You ever been there?"

The nervous action is not lost on Rick and he only hopes that the kid doesn't have a record. At least, if he does, it's nothing serious. It wouldn't personally bother Rick if he does but the media would probably have a field day with such information. He'll just have to have Shane run a background check on him, just to be sure. But the prospect of not hiring Daryl is actually wholly disappointing to Rick.

"No, can't say that I have. My family is originally from Kentucky. We moved down here when I was young for my father's business: he had a few partners here in the city. What brought you to Atlanta? School?"

Daryl swallows the bite he'd taken from his scone, taking his time in answering, "Yes. As soon as I graduated from high school I loaded up with my savings and left home."

"What made you want to get a degree in business?" Rick asks, genuinely curious.

A lot of people he knows was born into it but he supposes every business has to start somewhere.

"Just wanted to do something good with my life. Something big." Daryl replies, blowing on his beverage.

"Do you live in the city?"

"Yes. Actually rooming with a classmate of mine in an apartment downtown."

Rick nods and finishes his scone. Satisfied with the warmth of the drink, Daryl gulps down some of his own hot chocolate. They sit there in the ambiance of the coffee shop for a couple of minutes before Rick speaks again.

"Well, Daryl. If you don't mind following me back to the Tower, I'll have you fill out some paperwork and you can start bright and early tomorrow morning, if you're interested." he says, standing and straightening his suit.

He is confident that he is making the right decision. Even if it is impromptu.

Daryl takes back his resume as it is offered, "Wait, ya mean that's it?"

Again, that accent! Rick thinks it's charming.

"That's it. You passed the interview. I like you and from what I can tell, you're a young man with a goal in life that I want to see flourish. Do you want the position?"

"Hell yeah."

Rick laughs.


End file.
